Thinking with your feet

It is the year 2110 technology has permeated all facets of society. Even in Sports, the technology movement has been making huge strides in order to make sports achieve greater superiority.

PROLOGUE

Coach Shaver is on the hot seat, one game away from losing his prestigious position as the Jackrabbit’s soccer head coach. He sits behind his desk attempting to smoke his anxiety away. It’s been definitely a nail biter for almost two years now.

All of a sudden there is a tap at the door.

“Come in!” barked Coach Shaver.

In walks a tall and sharply dressed dude swaddled in a three piece suit.. He appears a few years younger than Coach. Mr. Shaver reacts as if he’s seen a ghost. He immediately slams the cigarette into the ash tray smothering the fiery ember and straightens up.

“Hello Mr. Seda! Isn’t it a surprise?” said Coach Shaver. “Please sit down.”

Mr. Seda decided to remain standing, glaring at coach.

“I'm fine. I won't be long. As a matter of fact,  I’m here out of respect. You've been with our soccer franchise for ten years now. The owner along with the investors have decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself.”

Coach Shaver wiggles nervously in his seat, as Mr. Seda continued with his speech.

“It’s common knowledge that over the past several years our franchise has had a decent record having you as our soccer head coach. However, recently you haven’t been able to even scratch us  one win. You have anything to say?”

Coach Shaver relaxed a bit and leaned back against his seat. He thought about it for a bit. Difficult to focus when your hanging over the cliff by a thread and the president of the soccer club is glaring at you like there is no tomorrow.

“Well, since technology seems to have hijacked sports and soccer not being the exception, our team has suffered immensely. Plus, everyone already knows how I feel about technology. I’m old school. I like doing things the old fashion way. But, I suppose that good old hard work and sweat simply ain’t cutting it anymore.”

Mr. Seda grinned momentarily and shook his head sideways in disbelief.

“Coach, coach...coach! What are we going to do about you? You have to understand that there is an infusion of technology invading every aspect of society. It’s the year 2110, you either have to go with the flow or get left behind. You yourself said it. You can’t compete without it. It is the reason why I'm here. We have a proposition for you, if you want it. Do you?”

Coach Shaver elevated his head and shamefully nodded, yes.

"Sure, what do I have to lose...?"

“Okay, so here is the deal...you win one game before the season ends and we will consider hiring you for one more year. Don’t forget that we are here to help you win or with anything you need. Think it over. You have about twenty-four hours to give us an answer.Just remember that part of the agreement is for you to introduce and integrate sports technology into your program. Got it?’

Coach Shaver bobbled his head then stood up and reached out to shake Mr. Seda’s hand. He forced a smile.

“Good, now get to it!” barked Mr. Seda.

As for Mr. Seda, well, he nonchalantly twirled back around and headed towards the exit. Just another day in the life of a soccer club president.

For Coach Shaver, however, he simply dropped back to his seat. He became stoic and pensive, staring out into nowhere.  Yet in his mind, he is somewhere.

"I don’t even think that technology can help me dig myself out of the deep hole I’ve dug for myself. What I need is nothing short than a miracle," he thought.

***********

A cold winter breeze blasts through the door as Coach Shaver enters his home late one evening, as he's been doing for the past several months. His wife Betty sits thumbing through the pages of a magazine sitting comfortably in front of the fireplace.

“Dear hurry up and shut the door and come sit by me.”

“Yes dear...be there in a second.”

He peeled off several layers of warm clothing  and hung them neatly on the coat rack.

The fire crackles in the distance and a rush of warm greets Coach Shaver as he strolls over to the couch. Mrs. Shaver, his wife of almost forty years, pats the empty cushion next to her. Before he sits, he pauses and glances over at a few soccer trophies decorating the top of the fireplace mantle.  He sighs for a bit then decides to finally sit.  His stare is still fixated on the trophies. They remind him of a time long ago, of his youth. Coach Shaver was actually a decent soccer player back in the day.

Betty rubs his back and comforts him. She notices his long, drawn out face.

“Dear you have to let it go. You're not that young anymore. You have to think about your health and your retirement and our future.”

“I know,  I know, but I love the game so much. It's like a drug. Ever since the injury that prevented me from going pro, coaching  is as close as I ever gotten to playing professionally--you know that.”

“I’m just concerned, dear. I mean you never smoked before; and now, you are smoking two packs a day. You’ve been also out long hours, you missed dinners, and you arrive late almost every other day.”

Coach decided to stand. There appears to be a resurgence of energy bombard the Coach after listening to his wife attempt to persuade him to throw in the white towel. But Coach is no quitter and he is not going to start anytime soon.

“ I understand dear, but I believe I have one last hurrah in me. I think I can win one last game, if I play my cards right. All I want is to leave coaching  with my head held high not with my tail between my legs, if you know what I mean.”

Coach sits back down, as Betty turns to face her husband. She has a surprise for him. Although, you wouldn't know it by her bland look and poker face stare. 

“Because I knew what your response was going to be, I got in touch with George. Your longtime childhood friend. Something inside told me that perhaps he can talk some sense into you," says Betty.

George, aka Dr. Torreh, has a PH.D in robotics engineering and a MS in computer programming. A very brilliant and accomplished man and not to mention a self-proclaimed genius. He's been under the radar for over two decades. No one knew whether he was alive or not.

“Really...are you serious dear? I haven’t talked to my buddy in over twenty-years. Ever since he sequestered himself to tinker and play with his robots, I've lost all contact. I'm just surprised you were able to get a hold of him--that’s all," replies Coach.

“Well, I did it for you dear," responds Betty.

Just then, the door bell buzzed. Coach jumped to his feet startled.

“Are you expecting company?” inquired Coach.

“Nope, not really...” responded Betty.

He strolled over to see who it is.  He peered through the door viewer peephole. All of a sudden his eyes bulged and his heart begins to skip a beat. Coach is ecstatic. It’s his best friend and childhood buddy George. Immediately, he opens the door.

“Come in... come in...Let me get those for you.”

George hands his coat and beanie. Coach then proceeds to  hang them on the coat rack. He then hugs his buddy and glaresover at Betty. It’s that look. Its the you had something to do stare.She has seen that look before many times.

She responds to his stare accordingly from across the room. Betty is not one to stay quiet.

“Now dear, don’t give me that look. I had nothing to do with George showing up unannounced!”

George interrupts rather hastily.

“Buddy, she’s right. I’m here own my own accord. I did have a few words with her, but nothing to the effect that i was visiting anytime soon. I just thought I surprise my childhood buddy."

“Well, that you certainly did,” responded Coach.

“Buddy, relax, I’m here and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Yea, you are right...”

“But you know what? I'm sorry for all those years I didn't get in touch with you. You and I know that distance, careers, and life get in the way.”

“I know exactly what you mean. And the same goes for me. I’m sorry too. So how about we go sit down?"

“Sure, lead the way buddy.”

Both of them casually strolled over to the couch. Betty then asked: “Would you like anything to drink George?”

“Yes. How about a coffee? Make it dark with one tablespoon of sugar and a dash of cinnamon.”

"Sure."

Betty then turned around and glanced at Coach.

“Anything for you dear?”

“I'll have the same, but without the dash of cinnamon."

Betty leaves as the two buddies sit, talk, and catch up. George notices that his buddy is not himself.

“What’s wrong buddy," asked George.

“It’s that obvious, huh?” responded Coach.

“Well, just because I haven't  been around all these years doesn't mean I don’t know what’s going on with my childhood buddy. We’ve known each other since we were knee high.Plus, don’t think I haven’t been keeping tabs on your soccer career. You know I'm huge fan of soccer too. And I know that a coach’s career hangs on wins and losses.”

“Yea, mostly wins...” interrupted Coach.

“Exactly, I was aware of your situation about two and a half years ago. I knew that at some point your position as head coach was in jeopardy. So, have they handed you the axe yet?”

“Not yet, as a matter of fact, the franchise has given me a chance. I just need to win one game for the club, while bringing the team to the twenty-second century.”

George immediately nodded his head sideways.

“Let me guess. One of the problems you are having is accepting technology. Am I wrong?” asks George.

“Well yea, I mean, sports science is making huge leaps and bounds into sports and recently into soccer. The game is losing its competitive edge. It’s not fun anymore. The science is leveling the playing field.  It's becoming like one huge boring chess match. Anyways, I don’t even like talking about it. Who needs steroids or other drug enhancing pills when you have sports technology artificially producing similar effects,” Coach says as he pauses to catch his breath.

“But think of the potential, soccer will never be the same again. I mean, coaches will never have to work as hard, as players will be coaching themselves” responds George.

“I don’t know about that. Not when it’s making your average player into star players. Training equipment and highly technical clothing has made the average player into a super star.  The game is getting to the point where that every player would be on equal terms on the field that even penalties would not decide a winner,” responds Coach.

“Look I get it. Your not alone Coach. Many people don’t like science or simply don’t understand it while others are afraid of it. It’s your right. However, sports science is here to stay whether you accept it or not. And it seems to me that if you want to keep your head coaching job then you have to make a sacrifice and embrace the science.”

“You’re correct. But it might be too late for me whether I begin to introduce the science to my team. I need to win one game or else none of that matters. Unless you have something close to a miracle for me, then I’m all ears.”

“As a matter of fact I do have something for you, but you’ll have to do something for me. It's one of those you scratch my back and I scratch yours sort of deals.  I’ll explain what that is later.  How about I show you first?”

George flicked his wrist and spoke into his smart watch: “ Hey Androbert, bring in the troops.”

“As you wish…” replied a male voice on the other end.

Coach Shaver endorsed a funny and puzzled look. He didn’t know what to make of the situation. Things seemed off, like in a dream.  Somehow the level of complexity in my life has suddenly shot up, he thought. Hope it gets better.

“What’s going on? So far you been vague with some stuff---”

“ Just wait and see. Perhaps it’s the miracle you've been wishing for---”

Within a matter of minutes the door swung open. One young man after another strolled inside. They actually marched like soldiers. They are suited in soccer warm-ups with a Jackrabbit logo on the upper, left part of the chest..  The coach’s jaw dropped to the floor. Before he could pick it up off the floor, there were eleven young men crowding his living room.

“This is your new soccer team, Coach. What do you think?”

“ What is this?” Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. This is your new soccer team, which of course, will win you countless  championships and save your coaching job, I may add."

Coach is still skeptical, as he grimaced. Yet he is definitely awe struck.

“Okay then, what’s the catch. You said you were going to explain something or I had to do something. What is it?”

“Well, remember all those years I went silent?”

“Yea�"“

“Well, all that time, I’ve been working  feverishly day and night, for two and a half years,  and been using you as the source of my inspiration--believe it or not.  And of course, I  also saw it as the perfect opportunity to see my creations in action�"put them to the test.”

Coach immediately paced over to the young men. The players formed two rows of five. He walked around and in front each one of them, scrutinizing each one, as if searching for something. There was something off, yet Coach couldn't put a finger on it. Coach returns to the couch as George follows.

Coach decided to sit. George stands in front of him.

“Let me guess. They are robots. Am I wrong?"

“Yes and no. What I mean is that they are Androids. They are a higher and more sophisticated class of robots, specially programmed to play soccer. I’ve programmed them with three input modes: easy, normal, and advanced. Think of it as a computer programmed to play chess. And like the computer, your team will also be unstoppable. In other words, the odds of winning games will favor you immensely."

“Gotta give it to you, you definitely have something here. They look incredibly human. But what’s the catch? You said I had to do something, like scratch your back or something. Come on and give this old man a break and spill it already because this looks too good to be true. Sorry, for my lack of confidence, but you know me and technology. We don't mix."

“No need to be sorry. Just let me explain. As you can see, they are all machine. And like all machines, especially robots--the missing link has been the human condition. What I mean is that they lack a soul. They lack empathy, sympathy, and any other types of human emotion. Plus, they lack any common sense. Believe me, introducing the written code of genetics into their  circuitry was not enough. Nonetheless, they look, feel, move, and talk like humans. The only thing missing is to capture a human soul and transfer the human essence into my Androids. Luckily for us, I’ve been experimenting with said procedure for the past six months; and  I’ve been also itching to put it to the test. Plus,  this is where you come in.”

Coach is really baffled. He had the look as if he had abruptly been visited by a bout of indigestion, something still doesn't sit well. Something in George's proclaimed miracle sounds suspicious.

“How on earth are you going to give them a soul? Because with all due respect, I don’t think even you can produce an artificial one, much less prove the existence of one. Death is something you don't mess with. It must be respected."

“You worry too much, but I'm glad you asked. You and I know that in life the only way to get ahead is  to deal the cards from under the table. In order to reach the apex, some of us have to at some point have  engaged in activity that is either immoral, unethical, illegal and inhumane. I mean science in its early infancy was brutal and many times inhumane. Today, somethings have changed. Science has progressed to the point that its more careful in the way it does things. Nonetheless, there are still some greedy b******s out there who would still taint science for their own corrupt and selfish reasons.”

Coach hastily interrupted George who stood with his arms folded and  plastered across his chest.

“Wait a minute! What kind of sacrifice or illicit activity are you talking about? I’m not sure I follow...”

George can't believe his friend is stubborn and antiquated.

“Well the miracle team I brought you is still incomplete. They are not yet fully human. What I want from you is to provide me with your team’s souls. I need to transfer their human essence into our new miracle soccer team. It's the only way to draw all suspicion away, no one will be the wiser.  You know exactly that robots can’t play humans. It would be unfair. So their soul is our ace of spades. But thats not all. There is still one more missing component in my greatest creation ever. And I believe that I finally solved the old age dilemma many have tried but failed so miserably--to unite the human mind with machine. I have discovered a way to entrap the soul seconds after death and transfer it immediately into a robot's hardwired machinary and software code via a machine I have also developed."

Coach has heard enough, as he interjects abruptly once again.

“Are you out of your mind? This is insane. There is no way we are going to get away with any of it!” Coach exclaimed.

“Who said anything about WE?”

“Huh. What the hell are you talking about now? Besides, I don’t know if I'm going to agree with all of this...”

George nods his head and smirked, more of a devilish grin.

“Somehow I knew you were going to respond in such a manner that I had to come up with a contingency plan. Buddy, I'm sorry, but my robots mean the world to me. They are the reason for my existence. Oh, and there is one other thing I  never told you. You know, I was always envious of you because I too always yearned to be head coach and own my own soccer team. And now, my dream has finally come true. I’m sorry buddy, but there could only be one of us.”

Coach pushed himself against the couch, creating some distance  between George and him. He didn’t recognize his childhood friend anymore. Next to him sat a stranger or at least that what it seems like.

“But...but...Why...?”

“ Well, there is one other thing I never told you  or anyone else, for that matter, of an accident I had at one of my robotic manufacturing plants. What you have before you is just a replica of my former self. Yes. I died in an accident, but I was fortunate enough to be  revived as a fully functional Android. Yet to be fully human, I still need a soul--your soul.”

Coach was flabbergasted. His mind became numb and couldn’t move.Instantly, George jumps to his feat and pointed at Androbert.

“Grab him quickly and take him to the van, hurry!”

THE END

Reviews

[Asusa Susa]

There is the probability that nuclear war, viruses, and natural disasters will not wipeout humanity. Perhaps, human existence will hang in the balance once intelligent machines begin to reproduce themselves.